The Selection (one-shot series)
by HorseGalFangirl9
Summary: A collection of one shots centered around the couples in The Selection Series (mostly Maxerica), before, during, and post series. There's drama, humor, and a whole lot of FLUFF. Used to be "A Little Surprise (and other unrelated one-shots)" SUMMARY MODIFIED
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! This is my first Selection FanFiction, so please don't be harsh. This is a mother's day prompt, so I made it slightly AU. It takes place after The One, but the royal family all survived. Just a warning that there might be some facts that I get wrong, and others that I made up. Please correct me if I'm wrong or if you have a better suggestion.**

**A Little Surprise**

Sunlight streamed through the windows of the room as Mary pulled away the curtains, waking me up. I sighed as I felt Maxon's arms around me, and wished that I could stay in them a while longer. But it was Mother's Day, and I had some last-minute preparations to do.

"Maxon," I said gently. "Maxon." When my only response was a snore, I decided to have a bit of fun. I mean, waking up at 4:00 was _his_ idea after all. "Mary," I whispered, getting out of the bed. "Can you get me a bucket of cold water? With ice? Please?" She stared at me in confusion for a minute before she realized what I was doing. She chuckled softly as she went to the bathroom to get my bucket.

After making sure that Maxon was still asleep, I went over to my desk and shuffled through my papers until I found what I was looking for. I scanned the page as I checked for the things that needed to be done. "The cake's done, the hall needs a few last-minute decorations, but the maids are taking care of that. I should go check up on that later," I muttered to myself. I knew I was stressing out too much, but I really wanted today to be perfect. I only wanted he best for my mother-in-law.

Amberly was just so… so… I can't even describe it. She just wants the best for everyone and goes out of her way to make her loved ones happy. I realized that we'd never really given her anything in return, so Maxon- sorry- King Maxon, Clarkson and I had made a plan to give her a Mother's Day party to say thank you.

The former king had a change of heart when his wife almost died trying to save him from a bullet. Amberly had been in the hospital in critical condition for a few weeks, but she pulled through. She's just so strong. After that, Clarkson apologized to me and to Maxon, and came clean to Amberly. She was devastated, I know she was. Yet she still loves her husband, and he wants to show her just how much he loves her back.

"Miss, I have your water," Mary said, breaking through my thoughts. "Thanks Mary." I said with an evil grin on my face as I took the bucket of water from her. I turn and look down at my sleeping husband, feeling a bit guilty for what I was about to do. I quickly pushed the feeling away as I poured the ice-cold water onto him.

He woke up with a jolt, sputtering and saying some very un-royal words. "What the- America!" he shouted, seeing me with the bucket in my hands. "Why did you try to give me an pneumonia?" I tried not to laugh at his shivering state, but failed miserably. "You said to… wake you up… at 4:00am… so I did." I managed to get out between laughs. "You should see your face!" He frowned at me as he got up from the soaking wet bed, and hobbled over to me. "Well, my dear, you should see yours," Before I could ask him what he meant, he tackled me, getting me wet in the process. "Maxon!" I cry. "I am not your dear!" He shakes his head at me in disbelief as we get up at get ushered away by our respective maids.

I wait patiently as my maids pick out my outfit for the day and get to work. Unfortunately, they don't let me see myself until they are done. I really hate it when they do this. "Are you guys done? Can I see now?" I whine. Very un-ladylike, I know, but I was honestly annoyed. Mary giggled at my impatience. "Not yet, your Majesty. Not yet." I huffed and crossed my arms as I waited for what seemed like an hour to see what my maids had done to me.

Finally, after a long, agonizing wait, Gelda, my new maid, told me, "You can look now." I turned around, and I almost cried when I saw my reflection. I was dressed in a strapless, sheer gold, a-line dress, with a big diamond embellishment on my left hip. The material of the dress gathered into the embellishment, giving it a layered look. My shoes were five inch open-toed heels, made the same color as my dress. My hair was twisted into a high bun with a braid in the front of my hair. A gold ribbon was braided into it. My make-up was light, with a slight smoky eye, bronzer, and a coral lip. A small tiara was sitting atop my head, the way it usually was. I never wore my crown.

"Girls, I- Thank you!," I gushed as I reached out to hug them. "It's a replica of Lady Amberly's look when she first entered her Selection. It was slightly different and another color, but almost the same." Gelda said. My heart warmed at the thought of how this would affect Amberly. I hope she got the message.

When I walked out the door, Maxon was there waiting. He was wearing a gold tux over a white dress shirt, and his hair was styled in a hot, messy way, his crown fitted atop his head.. "Hi, goldie," I joked as I walked up to him. "Don't talk, my dear. Look at yourself," he said jokingly. "Maxon," I asked. "Do you know what the gold is about?" "My mother always said how we were worth more than gold to her so…" he trailed off. I nodded in understanding. "Walk with me?" Maxon gave me his arm. "I would be delighted," I laughed as I took him up on his offer and we walked out of the room.

We made our way down to the Grand Staircase, going down to the Grand Hall, when we almost ran into Amberly. At the last second I pulled Maxon out onto the balcony. We held our breath as she walked by, hopefully not suspecting a thing. "That," Maxon breathed, "was close." "Tell me about it," I said as we hurried down the stairs. Clarkson met us in the middle of the hall, a clipboard in hand. "Ah! There you are!" he exclaimed. "America, they need you in the Great Room. Maxon, you need to go get the guests. I will go make sure that Amberly relaxes and doesn't walk in on the preparations. You know her, always on the move! Now go, both of you. We have an hour." As he walked away, I couldn't help calling out, "Nice cuffs!" I mean, they were. Gold is awesome.

As I walked into Great Room, I couldn't help but admire the decorations. The whole room had been decorated soft cream and ivory lace, giving off a golden glow. "So… I take it that Lady Amberly likes gold," I wondered out loud. "Yes," a maid came up to me. "Specifically amber, Your Majesty." I laughed at that. It made sense though. I spent the rest of the hour checking to make sure that all the decorations were done and that the music was set and that I was ready for my song at the end of the party. Amberly always said that she loved to hear me sing, so I figured, why not? I was just about to walk out when Maxon came bursting in, almost hitting me square in the face. He really is a loving husband.

"She's coming!" he yelled. Everybody ran to their respective spot, with me and Maxon on the sides of the doors. Not close enough to be hit, mind, you. That would be bad. The lights were shut, and we could hear the sounds of heels and hushed conversation through the doors. "… come here?" Amberly was saying. "It was closed off for breakfast." "Yes, my dear, but not anymore." I internally groaned at that. My dear? Really? Had Maxon taken that line from his father?

Suddenly the doors were opened, and Clarkson and Amberly stepped inside. "Clarkson… why are the lights-" The lights opened and she barely had time to register it before Maxon and I jumped out at her. "Boo!" I swear to God she jumped a mile high and whirled around to face us, hand on her heart. "What did you do that for?" Then, the rest of the room erupted with shouts of "Surprise!" and she jumped and whirled around again. "What is this?" she gasped, catching her breath. Maxon and I came up on each side of her. "Happy Mother's Day."

Her eyes widened. "Excuse me?" That's when the doors opened and the guests filed in. Royals from everywhere came in, along with Amberly's three older siblings and their kids. She looked back at us in shock, but we just pushed her toward them. I smiled along with Maxon when I saw her tearfully embrace her siblings, Clarkson by her side. Maxon and I made our rounds, thanking everyone for coming. They all said how nice this was of us, and how it was beautiful. At one point Adele came up to me and embraced me. Hard. When she pulled back, tears were streaming down her face. "Thank you," she said. "I don't think I've ever seen her this happy." "Hey," I replied. "What are daughters for?" She smiled at me again and left, leaving me as happy as could be.

Maxon and I made our way up to the stage, and everybody started clapping. "Thank you," Maxon said. "Thank you for coming here and being with us today. We planned this party for one reason; to thank the women in our lives. The women who raised us and taught us how to behave. Our mothers." It was my turn now. "Sometimes we tend to forget how important our mothers are, and how much they mean to us. At one point or another we all say that we don't need them anymore, but that is never true. No matter how embarrassing they can be, and no matter how much extra paperwork they make you do," I fixed Amberly with a pointed glare and earned a few chuckles. "The truth is that we'll always need them. Always love them. Happy Mother's Day!"

As Maxon and I stepped down, we were bombarded with people praising us. But we just pushed through. Finally we were met with the sight of Maxon's parents embracing, Amberly with tears in her eyes. When she saw us coming she brought us into a hug, tears streaming down her face. No words were said, the emotion in the hug was enough. When she calmed down, Amberly looked at us seriously. "Why did you do this?" Maxon and I looked at each other, and smiled. "Because you do so much for us, we thought this time we'd do something for you." "Oh, Maxon. Having you and America as children is all I need," Amberly tearfully admitted. "Well," I said. "We went that extra mile. For you, it was worth it." Amberly wrapped us in a hug again, but then she seemed to realize something. "America, your dress!" I looked down at it. "Yeah?" "It's… it's just like mine when…" she looked at Clarkson, then at me and Maxon's smiling faces. "Oh, you guys!" she exclaimed. "You know, Amberly,"I said. "I have a question." "Yes dear?" "How did you breathe in this dress?" I put my hands over my stomach as I doubled over. "It's tight!"

As she laughed, I looked up at her. She looked so alive, so happy. And in that moment all the tight dresses and paperwork in the world were worth it.

**Awww… I really thought that Amberly deserved that. All our moms do. Please review, follow, and favorite! And is you have read The One, PM me about your feelings. I want to know!**


	2. So We Meet Again

**Hey guys!**

**You have no idea how sorry I am that it has taken me so long to update, but I actually have a pretty good reason. My finals went on longer than expected, and then we had graduation to plan for and I got elected valedictorian so I had to work on that, and then I had family birthday parties and get- togethers and horseback riding competitions, so I've been kind of busy. Fortunately, summer's here and I have 4 weeks where I'm not in camp, so I will be able to update much more frequently! A thank you to ****Athenachild101 ****and ****martinezsami11 ****for the idea for this one-shot. The other ideas that I got will be made into one-shots within the week, probably on Friday, I promise. **

**Before we get started, I would just like to thank ****SelectionLoverForever, Catarinaskibs, Azalea, PokemonLuver151, Athenachild101, martinezsami11, Itsjustrach and Guest ****for reviewing, **** , nappyninja, martinezsami11, katieverburg, Romancefreak97, LittleLiarGleek, Itsjustrach, and Athenachild101 ****for following, and**** , crimson-angel1447, candy1928, SelectionLoverForever, Romancefreak97, and Mockingjay04 ****for favoriting. **

**Well now that that's done, let's get on with the story! BTW it's in Maxon's 1****st**** person point of view.**

So We Meet Again

"Oh, Maxon! Look at all the desserts in that bakery! Can we go? Please?" I let out a small sigh as I look over at my wife, who is absolutely giddy with excitement. I don't blame her, though. It's the first time either one of us has been out of the palace for about a year now, so I'm rather excited myself.

The years after the fatal rebel attack were particularly grueling, what with my immediate coronation, the wedding planning, all the funerals for the deceased, and the ridiculous amount of paperwork that America and I had to do. The attacks on the palace only intensified after the success on the last one, but the Southerners were finally subdued by the armed and trained Northerners, thanks to the Italians. Nicoletta and America had become best friends, along with Georgia and August, who had been married last month.

Put all of that together, and I guess it's pretty obvious why we haven't had the chance to get out much.

"You can go America," I say with a smile. "I'm going to make my way to the café. You can meet me there" I gesture to the little shop tucked away in the far end of the market. "Okay," she jumps a little to kiss me on the cheek, and runs off into the bakery. As I stare at her retreating figure, I shake my head in disbelief. That girl sure is something!

As I make my way to the café, I take in the sight of the bright blue, cloudless sky that hangs above me. Seeing it in person really isn't the same thing as seeing it out of a window. It's funny how you never really appreciate something until you have it taken away from you. The sound of children's laughter, the smell of freshly cut grass, it's something that most people take for granted. But I won't. Not ever again.

The bell jingles as I open the wooden door of the café, breathing in the smell of coffee and freshly baked bread. The woman at the counter seems a little shocked when she sees me, but she quickly smiles. "Why, Your Majesty. What an honor it is to have you in my café. Can I get you anything?" she says, her words carrying a southern drawl. I fight back the urge to chuckle. "Hello to you too. Could I get a mocha, two sugars, two milk?" "Coming right up!" The woman- Doreen, her name tag says- starts shuffling around, getting cups and spoons and coffee beans. "If you don't mind my asking, Your Highness, where is that lovely wife of yours? She always seems to be at your side," she says. I chuckle. "Oh, America went to visit the bakery. She saw strawberry tarts and flipped out. She should be joining me later." Doreen smiled. "Ah, yes. She is a lovely woman. We are so happy that she is our Queen, Your Majesty. You made the right choice." She hands me a streaming cup of coffee. "You have a good day, now!"

I gratefully take my cup and hurry to get a spot outside. As I settle down on a bench under an umbrella, I catch a glimpse of America chatting with the baker down the road. I smile as I take a sip of my coffee, bit almost do a spittake when I hear an all too familiar voice say my name. "Maxon?" I look up to see Kriss standing near me, arms filled with books and notebooks. She looks the same, dark hair, dark eyes, her skin slightly more tanned. A man stands beside her, carrying more books.

"Kriss," I say, setting down my coffee. "What a lovely surprise. How are you?" She smiles a real, honest smile that reaches her eyes. "I'm great! I'm running a program in the schools, you know the one I introduced for my project during the Selection? It's going really well!" I smile too. "That's amazing Kriss. I'm happy for you," I nod my head to the man beside her. "Who's this?" "Oh!" she exclaims, snuggling close to the man. "This is Leo. He's my fiancée." I look at him. "You are a lucky man, Leo. Kriss truly is an amazing girl." Leo smirks. "I know, Your Majesty. I can't imagine life without her." I smile knowingly, thinking of America.

"So," Kriss puts her books down on a nearby table. "I actually never got to apologize for the loss of your parents. I was actually quite fond of your mother. I'm sorry." I feel a small pang in my heart. "I was fond of her too." I sigh. "I'm okay though. America was there to help me through it. She lost her dad too, you know." Tears start to gather in her eyes. "Oh, she's such a strong girl. How is she, by the way? I'd like to get together with her sometime." "America's- well, she's America. Complaining about all the paperwork, making me fall head over heels for her over and over. She's having mood swings, though. And going to the bathroom often. It's weird." Kriss smiles knowingly. "Is she pregnant?" "No, I-" I stop mid-sentence. "I actually don't know. I mean, it's possible but-" Kriss puts her hand up to stop me. "Ask her."

She nods her head to the approaching redhead, a bag in hand. America smiles broadly when she sees whom I'm talking to. "Hey, Kriss! It's been so long!" They giggle as they embrace. "I've been meaning to set a date with you, but I've been pretty busy. I'd really like to go out sometime." America looks at her hopefully. Kriss smiles. "How about at 1:00 on Sunday?" "Perfect!" America cries. Leo looks at his watch. "Sugar, we have to go. The meeting's in twenty minutes." Kriss pouts. "Okay. Bye guys. I'll see you on Sunday, America!" "Alright. Bye Kriss!"

When Leo and Kriss are out of sight, I look at America. Her red hair catches the sunlight, and it stands out in contrast to her pale, flushed skin. As she looks at me with those gorgeous green eyes I remember what Kriss told me and take her in my arms. "America, I've been looking at you lately. You're acting different. Kriss proposed something to me, a reason why you could be acting the way you are." America raises an eyebrow at me. "Oh?" I take deep breath. "America Singer-Shreave, are you pregnant?"

Her smile is all the answer I need.

I hope you liked it! I'm sorry it's so short! The other two requested one-shots will be out on Friday or Saturday, depending. Please review, and if you have any other ideas send them to me. Tell me if you thought that this was good and what I could do to improve as a writer.

**Until next time,**

**HorseGalFangirl9**


	3. The Last Time (part 1)

**Hey guys!**

**I'm sorry that I haven't written a chapter in so long, but these one-shots are proving harder to write than I thought. I'm still working on the chapter where America and Maxon have kids, so I did this one instead. It might be a little crappy, so I apologize in advance. **

**A HUGE thank you to martinezsami11 and Kiren for reviewing. I swear that these reviews just brightened up my day and made me smile like an idiot. Another round of thank yous to Emeraldity123, Meg-sters52, daddyslittlefangirl, gabbana403, kaylie2000, linnearothi, shelley1998, and for following, and EWhisks (I love your stories by the way), fantasybookgirl, and for favoriting. **

**Thank you to EVERYONE who reviewed, followed, or favorited for making this my most popular story. (Averages of 6 reviews, 6-7 follows and 4 favorites per chapter, considering that I only have two real chapters on this story.)**

**This chapter will alternate between America's and Amberly's POVs, so review or PM me to tell me if it was confusing or not, so I know what to do for future chapters and stories. Once again, we are pretending that the king and queen survived the rebel attack at the end of The One.**

**WARNING: RATED T FOR VIOLENCE AND SWEARING. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 12-13 YEARS OLD. **

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She had done it again.

It was amazing, really, how everything she did seemed to wrong these days. First it was the meeting with the government officials, where she completely botched the report that she had to give in, and they all left. All of them. She had yet to get a response for the apology letter she had sent, along with the good copy of the report.

Then it just so happened that she got sick on the _Report _last week, blaming it on a stomach virus that was going around. It was really embarrassing, and completely undignified. She's received letters wishing her good luck and good health, and every one brought on a new wave of embarrassment.

Now, she had struck again. She had just delivered the preposition speech of her and Maxon's new project: the elimination of the eighth caste. This time in wasn't government officials or the entire country's population that were bashing her for her actions. Oh no. Today, it was her loving father-in-law that had decided to take matters into his own hands.

The crack of the whip echoed around the room, making the already sinister sound seem absolutely deadly. Despite herself, America heard a whimper escape through her lips. She would never admit it, but she was scared. Scared of what Clarkson would do to Maxon. What he would do to her.

She wondered if it was selfish to be scared for herself. She was sure that Maxon was only scared for her. But at that moment, she didn't care. Clarkson was a horrible, horrible man, and she was sure that he would to anything to assure that she was out of the picture. She was sure that he was capable of murder.

"Well, well. Would you look at that? The five is trembling. Just as she should have always been." The venomous voice of the former king chilled America to the bone, and across the room she saw Maxon shiver. "You always acted so strong, Miss Singer. So sure of yourself." "It's Shreave," America managed to get out. "America Shreave." Clarkson gave a dark laugh. "Oh, in the legal documents, maybe. But you haven't truly become part of the family in our eyes. You haven't been accepted."

America felt herself getting angrier with each word he spoke. No, with every _lie _he spoke. She remembered Maxon's smile as she walked down the aisle on their wedding day. The way he almost started crying when they said their vows. The tender way he kissed her when they were pronounced husband and wife, as if she would disappear if he touched her any harder. Maxon loved her. Maxon accepted her. And so did his mother.

The image of Amberly tearfully hugging her after Maxon proposed flashed through America's mind, along with the memories of the afternoons that they had spent together, looking through photo albums or just listening to each other talk. She also remembered the few days before the fatal rebel attack, where she had gone to brush Amberly's hair and she had insisted that she call her mom. There was no doubt in her mind that Amberly loved her like a daughter.

It was only Clarkson that hated her, seeing as she had gone against him and challenged him. He hated her because she hadn't shown fear and had stuck up for what she believed in. He was too used to people bending at his will.

"You are the only one that hasn't accepted me, Clarkson. Amberly thinks of me as her daughter, and has very much accepted me. Maxon chose me. He chose me out of the thirty-five girls in the Selection. Your son loves me. You are the only one who has a problem with me, because you are still stuck in your own ways. Everything had to be the way _you _want it to be. Life doesn't work like that. I'm a part of the Shreave family, whether you like it or not." America stared up defiantly at him, not feeling an ounce of fear in her body. Of course, her defiance was soon replaced by pain.

Clarkson had hit her back with the whip, harder than she would have thought possible. Black spots swam before her eyes as she let out an ear-piercing shriek, the pain exploding down her back and circulating around all the other nerves in her body. This was what Maxon had to go through for years. This pain. The thought brought tears to her eyes. She immediately knew that she would never, _ever _let Maxon feel this way again. "What's the matter Your Majesty?" Clarkson spit the words out as if they were physically hurting him to say. "Not feeling strong and almighty?" "Father, father stop!" Maxon cried. Tears were streaming down his face as he struggled against his bonds, trying to get free. Clarkson laughed. "Oh, no. I don't think I will. It seems that this is a much more painful way to punish you, my son. To punish both of you!"

The whip came down on America's back again, harder than before. America screamed a blood-curling scream. Flashes of white flashed behind her eyelids as she struggled to remain conscious. She didn't even know why she was trying. It would be so much easier to give up, to escape from the pain. To go down, down, down…

That's when the door opened, and a voice shrieked. "CLARKSON!"

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Amberly walked around the gardens, savoring the peace and quiet that currently surrounded her. It usually never stayed this quiet for long. Even though she wasn't queen anymore, she could never escape from the hustle and bustle that always came with palace life. She smiled as she remembered something that America had said yesterday when they had been having their lunch together.

She had been telling Amberly about all the things that she had screwed up over the past three months, and he had gone on a little rant that she had never forgotten. "It's like everywhere I go, those mistakes still follow me. I can never get away from them. How am I supposed to learn from my mistakes if I keep getting reprimanded for them and never taught how to fix them?"

Oh, America. If only she knew how right she was. When she had first become queen, Amberly had made so many mistakes she lost count. She tripped, mixed up paperwork, had panic attacks, and even fainted once! She fixed those things by teaching herself how _not_ to do them, but it was hard when everybody was always pointing out her flaws. She understood America. She really did.

Amberly frowned a little as she recalled an instance where she walked in on Clarkson giving America a hard time about her messing up a government report. The poor girl had almost been in tears. She sighed. It was about time that she confronted Clarkson about it. It was no secret that he didn't like America, but now he was becoming down right cruel. A sudden thought blossomed in her head, but Amberly quickly shook it off. If he had harmed her… well, she would never forgive herself.

She entered the palace, and made her way to her husband's study, taking a guess that he would be there. She knocked. "Clarkson?" No answer. She opened the door, surprised to find it unlocked. One look around the room assured her that it was indeed empty. As she was turning to leave, she noticed that the stand where Clarkson kept his weapons had an empty spot. If she remembered right it was the place where his whip usually was…

Feeling a new wave of panic hit her, she scurried over to their bedroom, hoping to find him there. She knocked, but there was no answer and the door was locked. Defeated, she went to Maxon's study, hoping to ask him if he's seen his father. Her panic grew the moment she saw the door ajar. She stepped in, and her heart skipped as she took in the sight of scattered documents and an overturned chair.

She practically ran out of the room, going to alert guars when she heard the shriek. She stopped dead in her tracks as she registered the shriek as America's, having heard it once before. She slowly made her way to the master bedroom: The king and queen's suite. The closer she got, the more she able to hear.

"What's the matter Your Majesty?" came her husband's voice. "Not feeling strong and almighty?" "Father, father stop!" That was Maxon. Amberly started to run, fighting the urge to cry. This could not be happening! "Oh, no. I don't think I will. It seems that this is a much more painful way to punish you, my son. To punish both of you!" Amberly gasped as she heard her husband cackle maniacally and the sound of a whip meeting flesh. A blood-curling scream filled her ears, and she let out a sob as she realized who it was. She threw open the door, taking a second to take I the scene in front of her. Maxon in a corner of the room, struggling against the rope that was tying him down. On the other side, she saw Clarkson standing over a bloodied America, a blood-covered whip in his hand. She suddenly felt a surge of anger, pure anger that she had never felt before.

"CLARKSON!"

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Everybody says that they see an angel right before they die. America wondered if she was dying, because this was surely a miracle sent from heaven. Queen Amberly stood in the doorway, surrounded by a halo of white light. Her hair was flying out in back of her, thanks to the breeze that the door had created when she yanked it open. America then realized that the wings she thought she had seen were a hallucination, and the white was just her eyes losing focus. She was slipping, losing her grasp on consciousness.

"Amberly!" she heard Clarkson cry. "It's not what it looks like!" "Not what it looks like? What is it then?" Amberly asked in a low voice. It was worse than if she would have screamed. Clarkson opened his mouth, then closed it. For once, he had nothing to say.

"It seems to me that you have tied up our son and whipped our daughter. HOW COULD YOU CLARKSON!?" Amberly screamed. She advanced on her husband until she was right in his face. He was a good foot taller than she was, but the anger radiating off of her was enough to make her seem ten feet tall.

"I was teaching them a lesson," Clarkson finally managed to get out. "What they are doing is wrong for the country." Amberly was fuming. "Teaching them a lesson? By abusing them? For CHANGING THE COUNTRY? Quite frankly Clarkson, I agree with them. Eliminating the castes is a wonderful idea and will benefit the country greatly. You are no longer king, Clarkson. It's time to let your son take charge!"

Clarkson turned red. "You dare!" He lifted the whip, meaning to strike his wife. Amberly stood there, dumbstruck. Just as the whip was about to come down on her face, America came to her senses. Not having been tied down, America jumped in front of the whip and grabbed it with her hand, crying out in pain when the leather broke through her skin. Ignoring the pain, she pulled the whip out of a stunned Clarkson's hand, flipped it around and hit him on his left temple. He fell to the ground, unconscious.

With the adrenaline rush over, America's injuries got the best of her. The pain clouded her mind, and she was distinctly aware of someone catching her as she fell to the ground. She felt something wet land on her cheek. "I'm so sorry," came Amberly's voice from above her, thick with tears. America managed to shake her head and put her hand on her mother-in-law's shoulder before she succumbed to her injuries and everything went black.

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**Okay! How was that? Good? Bad? Let me know in your reviews! This is part one, and part two will be posted when I hit 15 reviews for this story. That isn't too hard right? And if I hit 17, I will post two chapters in one or two day(s). I will keep my word this time, unlike I did with my other story Amber. (Whoops?)**

**The first 3 reviews will get a sneak peek at part 2 of this two-shot or a sneak peek at chapter 5 of Amber, depending what they ask for. (Mention it in your review) If they don't have an account, then give me an idea for another one-shot and I will do it A.S.A.P. (If I get 17 reviews or more, I'll do it to everybody. If not, only the first three. **

**Until next time, **

**HorseGalFangirl9**


	4. The Last Time (part 2)

**OMFG! You guys are AMAZING! I asked for 15 reviews, and I got 21. 12 reviews! I was FREAKING OUT! Due to me updating so fast, I wasn't able to give you a sneak peek, and I apologize. At least you got a quick update, right?**

**Kiren (2): lol I do the same thing! I don't sign in for, like, half of the reviews I post.**

**Going for the win: Ahhhh! You reviewed my story! Twice! I am totally fangirling right now! Thank you!**

**PEETAMELLARKLOVER123: I'm glad**

**Fanficforev: Yes, thank you for being the 17th reviewer**

**LovableL101: I agree. King Clarkson is the worst. Oh, and I would love to talk about horseback riding!**

**Fantasybookgirl: Thanks!**

**Nappyninja: Sweet. Thank you!**

**Meg-sters52: That's actually exactly what I did… lol!**

**A total of 9 reviews for the last chapter. Wow… I hope this second part lives up to all of your expectations!**

**P.S. Listen to Hurt by Christina Aguilera as you read this. I find that it makes it a bit more of an interesting read**

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The Last Time Part 2

The palace was in a frenzy. Guards were detaining all of the staff, locking them in rooms until it was deemed safe to come out. Reporters were crowded around the exterior of the palace, trying to get the scoop on why the palace was suddenly in lockdown. Specialists were coming in, investigating why the queen was in critical condition, bleeding and unconscious. Rumor has it that the former king had done it, and he was currently in the dungeons, waiting to be questioned by the authorities.

The only place that seemed to have an air of peace was the hospital wing, the beeping of the heart monitor being the only sound to be heard. America was lying on a bed, eyes closed with a look of peace on her face. Numerous wires connected her to IVs, medicine, and monitors, assuring her the least amount of pain.

Maxon stood at the side of the bed, staring sadly at his beautiful life, tears running down his cheeks. He had tried so hard to protect her from this, but America had never really been one to make his life easy. She usually blatantly disobeyed him, did the opposite of what he wanted her to do. And that was what he loved about her. "Please, America. I'll never call you my dear again. Just please come back to me." He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. "Please."

The sound of heels clicking on the marble floors caught his attention, and he turned away from America long enough to see his mother enter the room. Her face was a bit red and her eyes had slight bags under them, barely enough to be noticeable. But Maxon knew his mother, and he saw enough to know that she had been crying.

Seeing her son's tear-streaked face, Amberly held out her arms. Even though he was a good five inches taller than her, Maxon fell into the embrace and buried his face in the crook of her neck. She felt her neck becoming wet, and she held him tighter, wishing that she could just take all his pain away. She hated seeing her kids hurt. "Maxon, I'm so sorry. I-I should have taken the blow, I should have saved her. I should have known-" she was cut off. Maxon pulled away from her, drying his eyes and fixing her with a pointed look. "No, no you shouldn't have. It wouldn't have done me any good to have the two most important people in my life wounded. Besides, you couldn't have known. No one did."

That's when she saw it. The way his eyes left hers, how he stood a bit more rigidly and his mouth twitched. He was lying. "Maxon," she said warningly. "Maxon, I can tell you're lying. Someone knew. Who?" Tears welled up I her eyes as Maxon averted his eyes and stared at the ground. "Oh, Maxon what did he do?" "Nothing. He didn't do anything." Maxon said, unconsciously flexing his back. This move wasn't missed by Amberly, and she choked back her tears as she demanded, "Show me your back." Maxon's eyes widened as he opened his mouth to protest, but gave up once he saw the look in his mother's eyes.

He slowly turned around and took off his shirt, and he cringed once he heard Amberly's stifled sob. He knew what she was seeing. Pairs of thick scars, crossing over one another in an X formation, the newest pair still pink and raw. He felt a hand reach out and touch his back, and then drop as it was used to stifle another sob.

Whirling around, he grabbed his mother in his arms and held her as she cried, leaning against him for support. "How could I not have known? How could I have been so blind and not realize that my son was getting caned by his own father? I'm a horrible mother." "No, you're not. Mother, look at me." He pulled away and looked into her leaking eyes. "I went out of my way to make sure that you didn't know. I didn't want to cause you pain. You're the best mother a child could ask for."

"I agree," came a voice from the other side of the room. "You're loving, caring, sweet and you still make time for your family even when you have a bucket load of work to do. I know of some royals who neglected their children. Oh, and you won the Selection. I know I did too but-" a cough interrupted the little speech. A sound of pain escaped from a certain redhead's lips before she continued. "But I'll never compare to you."

Maxon and Amberly turned around to see a pale-looking America half-sitting in her bed, her face twisted into a half-smile that kind of looked like a grimace. "America!" Maxon ran over to her bedside and put a hand on he chest. "Lie down." She shook her head. "No. It hurts." Maxon looked panicked for a second before he sat on the bed next to his wife and pulled her onto his lap. Her back was off the mattress, but she was still at an angle where she wouldn't overexert herself. "Thanks," she muttered as she closed her eyes. "No, America," Maxon said. "Stay awake, at least until the doctor comes, okay?" Reluctantly, the said redhead opened her eyes and gave a curt nod. \

Maxon looked over at his mother. "Can you go get the doctor?" Amberly nodded, still choked with tears, and swiftly left the room. America looked up at Maxon questioningly, having seen her mother-in-law's tear stained face. "I take it that you told her about your back?" she asked. Maxon nodded. "Yeah. She kind of figured that something had gone on with my father and I. I didn't see any point in hiding it from her any longer." America sighed. "Oh, I feel so bad for her. Seeing me in this state, finding out that her husband is a jackass, and then finding out that he's a jackass that beats his only child must be really hard on her." Maxon smiled at America's description of his father. "Yes, I'm sure it must be."

They stayed in that position, in comfortable silence until the doctor came into the room, followed by Amberly. "Ah! Your Majesty. I see that you are awake. I thought that it would take a bit longer for your body to regenerate itself." America laughed, but winced right after. "Quite honestly doctor, I think it was the pain that woke me up more than anything else." A frown crossed over the doctor's face. "I guess I didn't give you enough medicine. Here, let me fix that." He went over to one of the tubes and took it out of her arm, replacing it with a new one. Almost instantly, America's muscles began to relax.

"There we go. Now, I recommend you get to sleep Your Majesty. You're doing fine, but your body really needs its rest to get better." America nodded. "Thank you, doctor." The doctor bowed. "Your Majesties." Then he walked out of the room. Maxon slowly lifted America off of his lap and kissed her head. "I have to go my love. Ill come and see you when I'm finished with my meetings." America smiled. "Of course my dear." Maxon looked at her, a look of mock-horror on his face. "Did you just say what I think you said?" America giggled. "Yes, yes I did." Maxon laughed. "Oh, America." He gave her one last peck on the lips, kissed his mother on the cheek, and walked out.

Now alone, Amberly walked over to America's side. The redhead smiled at her. "Hey," she said weakly, her words laced with drowsiness. Amberly gave a small laugh. "Hey," she said back. America's smile slowly turned into a frown. "He didn't hurt you, did he? After I passed out, I mean." Amberly shook her head. "You knocked him out, remember?" "Oh yeah…" America smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about that." Amberly shook her head disbelievingly. "Why are you apologizing. We would all most probably be in far worse condition if you hadn't." She reached out and brushed a piece of hair from America's forehead. "You saved me. Thank you." America smiled. "Anything for you, mom." "Oh," Amberly whispered, feeling the tears coming again. She leaned over and kissed her daughter's forehead.

America smiled and let her eyes drift shut. She was fast asleep in seconds. Amberly smiled too as she took out a box that she had been hiding and put it on America's bedside. "Sweet dreams, my dear."

The door closed with a soft click.

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**So? How was it? Let me know in your reviews. I will update when I reach 25 reviews… can you guys do that for me? Please feel free to give me any suggestions on one-shots that you want to see. I completed the one where Maxon and America have kids, but I don't really like it. Please send me other ideas while I try to fix the chapter so I can keep updating. **

**Once again, you guys are the best! **

**Until next time,**

**HorseGalFangirl9**


	5. The Last Time (part 3)

**Hey guys! I'm back! Thank you all for your patience and support and your 49 reviews. Wait, what? 49 reviews? Guys! Thank you so much! I'm, like, crying right now. I went from 21 to 49 in one (or two) chapters. That's, like, mind-boggling.**

**Chapter 5 reviews**

**Meg-sters52: No rebels, sorry! But there was a bit of Maxerica…**

**fantasybookgirl: I got a lot more than 25 reviews…**

**Ewhisks: thanks!**

**katieverburg: yeah, I really wished Keira Cass would have tied that up. Anyway, I hope this is satisfactory!**

**martinezsami11: You are drop dead amazing for writing that wonderful review. ** Kiren: Yup… deny, deny, deny PokemonLuver151: Thanks!

**winterprincess: I'm glad you think so.**

**miaforevez: breathe, and then speak! Lol!**

**Strike OOO: Awww! You're so sweet!**

**PEETAMELLARKLOVER123: #1=done! ;)**

**Guest: I agree. Thank you!**

**Guest: I did, although it took a while… whoops!**

**ShelleyP1998: Yay!**

**PokemonLuver151: That about sums it up!**

**Brooke S: That's my next one-shot!**

**Fanficforev4427: here it is!**

**LovableL101 (3): Thank you! You make me cry… You're so sweet!**

**EruditeAbnegationMockinjay (2): I did!**

**PEETAMELLARKLOVER123: No, it wasn't rude. I agree, I should have at least let you guys know. Well now you know… (Let it go! Let it go!) lol Get it?**

**Chapter 6 reviews**

**Kiren: thanks. And ur so lucky!**

**Theoneforever: Yeah, we're fine. Thanks!**

**EruditeAbnegationMockinjay: Thank you!**

**fantasybookgirl: Will do. Aww… thanks! You are absolutely amazing for being so sweet!**

**PokemonLuver151: I agree!**

**Whew! That's 28 reviews. You guys are the best. Now here is that chapter you've all been waiting for.**

The Last Time part 3

The first thing that America was aware of was the numb pain in her back. It throbbed and burned, making her wince and try to flip over onto her stomach. Unfortunately, the wires in her arm made her stay put, as they pinched painfully when ever she made too big of a movement. Sighing, she plopped back down on the pillow, and yelped in surprise when her head came down on something hard.

Carefully, she moved her hand underneath the pillow and extracted a blue velvet box, wrapped in an intricate blue ribbon. Brows furrowed in confusion, America slowly undid the ribbon, placing in on her pillow as she slowly sat up. Taking a shaky breath, she opened the lid.

It was a pendant of the symbol of Illéa, decorated with blue and green gems. It hung on a simple silver bracelet with little strips of color braided into it here and there. As she took it out of the box a note fluttered out, and as America picked it up she immediately noticed Amberly's neat handwriting.

_My dearest America,_

_This pendant has been part of royal tradition since the beginning. It's passed down from queen to queen when the former thinks that the current queen has deemed herself worthy to be queen. I was originally planning to give this to you at your wedding, but I don't think that any time could be as appropriate to give this to you as it is now._

_Not only did you save me, but you saved my son as well, and if that's not a trait of a worthy queen, then I don't know what is. I know that you always put your self down and that you feel like you make plenty of mistakes, but making mistakes is part of life. I've seen you pick yourself back up and learn from your errors, and also fight back when you believe that you're right. _

_You have a confidence that I never had, America. I know that you will change this country for the better, even if I was never able to. I believe in you, my dear. I always did. _

_Love,_

_Amberly_

America didn't know exactly when the tears started to fall, but she registered them when they started to fall on the paper. Carefully putting the letter back in the box, she took the bracelet and placed it on top. Closing the lid, she called for the doctor.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" he called as he rushed in the room. "Do you happen to have a pen and a blank sheet of paper?" she asked. Seeming a bit confused at her request, the doctor handed her a paper from his clipboard and a pen from his pocket.

In surprisingly steady handwriting, America wrote two words that she knew would speak volumes to the former queen.

_Thanks, mom._

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A week later, America was discharged from the hospital. The same day that Clarkson's trial was being held. She honestly didn't know why there had to be a trial; the evidence was overwhelming. Still, it was happening and she still had to make an apperance.

Her maids dressed her in a light blue dress with an open back, saying that her wounds would have to be visible for evidence. A cape was fastened on her neck, however, hiding the bandages and flowing to the floor. She could easily take it off when the evidence was to be presented. The pendant was placed on her wrist. Once again, America was amazed by her maids' brilliance.

To soon, it was time for her to make her way down to the entrance hall, where guards would be waiting to escort her to the courtroom, a small journey away from the palace. The minute her heels touched the marble floors she was swept into a passionate kiss, and she tangled her fingers into the familiar blond hair. Breathless all too soon, she broke away and stared into Maxon's warm brown eyes. "Hi."

Her husband laughed, picking her up and twirling her around. The movement made America wince, but the pain was nothing compared to the overwhelming sense of happiness that was coursing through her at that moment. As she was set down, she heard a little tinkling giggle, and she turned around to see Amberly staring at them with tears in her eyes and a smile on her face. America rushed out of Maxon's arms and ran (well, walked, but you get what I mean) into her mother-in-law's, hugging her and trying to tell her everything she wanted to in that simple action.

"Did you get it?" she whispered to the older woman. She gave her a subtle head nod, fingering the pendant on America's wrist. "Yes." Strong arms enveloped them both, and, for the first time in forever, the family felt whole again.

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Just the sight of Clarkson sitting there at the podium was enough to make America's blood boil. She had never hated anyone more, with all of her being, in her entire life. How _dare _he just sit there, completely unharmed when he had ruined Maxon's childhood, his marriage, his family. He had ruined _everything._ And yet, he sat there looking no worse for wear, a smirk plastered on his face. At that moment, all America could think about was how much she wanted him to rot in jail for the rest of her life. In fact, she had never been more sure that she wanted in her entire life. She didn't even hear the judge speaking, didn't really comprehend what was going on. She was solely focused on the former king, her burning hatred, and the magnified feeling of the pain in her back. It was as if her body was reminding her what this monster had done.

A nudge to her side snapped her out of her trance, and she found herself being pulled up to the witness podium, crossing Amberly midway. She must have just finished delivering her speech. America followed Maxon up the steps, her back burning with every step. As she turned to face the audience, she saw a flicker of fear and apprehension appear on Clarkson's face. She felt a smirk make it's way across her face. _He should be afraid._

The judge drawled on for some time about the canings and whippings and the evidence found and such. When the time came to unfasten her cape to show her wounds, America found herself wincing as she felt the material press against her raw skin. There was also a little sense of dread in the back of her mind, not wanting to show everyone what she had suffered. She pushed the feeling down and she turned around and let the cape fall from her shoulders.

She winced again as she heard he collective gasps from the audience, knowing all too well what they were seeing. Red skin, decorated with three red lines, covered in scabs. She turned slightly and saw Maxon showing his back as well, the newest, red line being a visible contrast to the other faded scars. This is what his father had done to him. To them. And now the whole world knew it.

"Before we give the sentence, we would like to give the accused one last chance to defend his honor. Clarkson Schreave, you are given the permission to speak." Clarkson stood up, and fixed his son and his wife with a pointed glare. "With all due respect, Your Honor, they are liars. These wounds were not inflicted by me, but by my wife. I am simply an innocent man being framed by monsters."

Then why were you the one in the room when the whipping happened? Why were you the one with blood on your hands when you were pulled from the room? Why do all the guards say they saw Amberly running into the room as I screamed?" America fixed Clarkson with a glare and a self-satisfied smirk. "Face it Clarkson. All evidence points to you. Your case is a lost one."

"Clarkson Schreave, what do you plead?" the judge asked. He remained silent. "Very well. Clarkson Porter Schreave, former king of Illéa, is charged guilty of abuse toward the royal family, and sentenced to life in jail." The gavel hit the wood, sealing the sentence.

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America walked down the dark staircase, only the small light above her illuminating the way down. The smell was horrid, mold and decay, and it was all she could do to keep her self from gagging. The cells on either side of her were occupied with men and women alike, some reaching out to her and others watching her go by, huddled on the floor. She forced herself to make her way to the end, where the one person she wanted to see was being held.

Clarkson was hunched over in his cell, thin as ever and only a shell of a man. He didn't even raise is eyes as she stood in front of his cell and slid food through the bars. "I see you've finally realized what you've done," she said as she straightened her back and folded her hands in front of her, looking every bit the queen she was. "I'd like to tell you that it was really all for naught. The castes are still being abolished, Maxon and I are still ruling, and the people love us a lot more than they ever did you. I also think you'll be happy to know that with your wife and Silvia's help, I have become exactly what you wanted your daughter-in-law to be: a strong, confident ruler with all of the grace that a queen should posses.

"I am not, however, pliable and I will not bend to someone's will. That is the one thing that led me to be your downfall." Sunken eyes now met determined ones. "You will never be good enough for me, and you are not my downfall." America scoffed. "Oh, really? Then tell me why you are inside a cage while I am not." Silence. Turning away, America said a few last words. "If I were you, Clarkson, I'd cherish this little conversation. It is the last time, after all, that you will have any human contact."

Even as she made her way back down the corridor, the words echoed in both their minds.

_The last time. _Oh, yes. It was the last time of many, many things.

**Okay. Wow.**

**So, I'm wondering if maybe we can make it to 60 reviews? I know it's a long shot but you've done it before and I really think it could happen again! Could you do that for me? If not… I'll update in two weeks when I finish summer camp. **

**Now, a random question: What is the most absurd pairing you can think about in the Selection trilogy? Ex: Celeste/Clarkson. It can be anything! Except Asperica. That already existed.**

**I'm counting on you guys,**

**HorseGalFangirl9**


	6. The Wedding Singer: Part 1

**Hey guys! It's been a while… hasn't it! Okay, please don't kill me! I'm sorry for not updating sooner, but I'm updating now, okay? And it's longer. Just to make it up to you.**

**This is an AU where America is a wedding singer and Maxon is the photographer. Enjoy!**

The Wedding Singer: Part 1

"I knew you were trouble when you walked in! So shame on me no-ow. Flew me to places I've never been, 'till you put me down. Oh! I knew you-"

I pick up the phone with a groan, looking at the time. 5:00 in the goddamn morning! I curse myself for putting that song as Marlee's ringtone, even though it is kinda catchy. It's so incredibly loud, and it's been bothering me for the past few months, since she's been constantly calling me because of the wedding. Rubbing my eyes, I try to keep the sleep-deprived tone out of my voice as I answer the call. "Hello?"

"Hey, America!" Marlee's bubbly voice fills the speaker. "Are you asleep?" I roll my eyes. My friend is the most genuine, smartest person I know. But she's also kind of an idiot if you catch my drift. "No, Marlee," I answer sarcastically. "I was up on mount Everest, about to ski down the freaking mountain." There's silence on the other end of the line for a while. "You ARE joking, right?" Marlee finally asks. I give a shout of frustration as I plop back now on my bed, hand covering my eyes.

"Of course I'm joking Marlee! It's five o' clock in the freaking morning! I was SLEEPING!" Marlee sighs. "I know, I know. I'm sorry America. It's just that Carter and I have been talking, you know, about the final details for the wedding, and we decided that we don't want the Jell-O Shots to play at the reception." I feel my eyebrows shoot up into my hair line. "Seriously? But I thought you loved that band?" "Well, yes, I do. But Carter and I were thinking about it and we realized that we knew someone better."

I sit up straight now, the grogginess clearing out of my system. "Oh really? And who might that be?" Marlee is silent for a second before answering. "You." I feel my eyes go wide and my jaw drop. Oh yeah, I was definitely awake now! "Me?" I manage to squeak out. Marlee laughs, a sweet, comforting sound. "Yes, you! You're so silly!" "But," I furrow my brow, thinking. "Why would you want me?"

I can practically feel Marlee's disbelieving stare through the phone. "America, really. You're the best singer I know. Even Carter agrees that you would be amazing. In fact, we're both a bit embarrassed that we didn't think of this sooner." Since, you know, I'm the smart girl that I am, I think I say something along the lines of, "Oh."

"So?" Marlee asks, her voice rising in anticipation. "Will you be our wedding singer?" My voice catches in my throat. _Don't do it, America._ I hear my conscience say. _You know what happened the last time you sang in public. _I wince a bit at the memory. Not exactly my finest moment. If it were to happen again…

"America?" Marlee's voice shakes me out of my mental conflict. "You still there?" "Yeah," I manage to get out. "Sorry. Um… sure! Yeah, I'll be your wedding singer." I have to hold the phone away from my ear to keep Marlee's squeal from rendering me deaf. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you America! This means so much to me!" I give a small laugh. "No problem Mar. It's my pleasure." "All righty then! I'll let you sleep now, sorry for waking you!" Marlee says in a rush. I shake my head. "Okay Mar. I'll talk to you later. Bye."

Pressing the end call button, I slam my phone back on my nightstand as I mentally smack myself. _America Singer, what have you gotten yourself into?_

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I never do manage to fall asleep again, so I stalk hot guys on Instagram until my alarm rings at 6:30. I quickly step into the shower and let the water run over me, imagining that it's washing away all my problems down into the drain, never to be seen again. I try to pretend that the mortgage we have on the house doesn't exist, and that my father doesn't have heart issues. I pretend that I never messed up my most important gig and that I never met that dreamy blond haired, brown-eyed boy that led to my complete and utter embarrassment.

_Don't think about him America! It'll only bring you pain! Why do you even think about him anyway? It's not like he interests you or anything. And you certainly don't want to see him again. No way! And the memory of his hand on yours isn't one you want to remember, and neither is the memory of his warm, brown eyes staring into yours like-_

"Oh, shut up me!" I grumble as I close the water and wrap myself in a towel. "Stop thinking about it. It's over, it's done, and you'll never see him again. Stop obsessing. You'll drive yourself crazy!"

I look at myself in the mirror, taking in my wet red hair and my blue eyes rimmed with red from water getting into them. I rub some cheap moisturizer onto my heat-blotched face, shaking my head. "And now I'm talking to myself. That's not crazy at all." I make a face at my reflection before stepping out of the bathroom and back into my room.

Quickly, I change into my faded jeans and a light blue T-shirt, tying my hair up into a messy bun. I dab a little bit of lip gloss on my lips before I head down stairs, grabbing a granola bar as I pass the kitchen. My dad is sleeping on the couch while my mom stands over the sink, washing dishes.

"Where are you going America?" she asks, setting down the plate that she was scrubbing. "I have to go and meet Marlee. We're having a get together for all her bridesmaids." I'm about to turn away when I remember. "Oh! And I have to go to the library to look up some love songs. I've agreed to be Marlee's wedding singer." My mom claps her hands and comes over to hug me. "That's great sweetie! I'm proud of you." I blush as I pull away from her arms. "Thanks mom. Now I really have to go. I should be back for supper." "Have fun!" My mom waves at me as I turn and run down the hallway and make my way outside.

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"Mer! Over here!" I turn and smile as I see a girl with a crazy mane of blond curls waving her arms at me from a table near Starbucks. I wave back as I make my way over to her, weaving between the crowds of people. "Hey Marlee!" I exclaim as she pulls me into a hug.

"What took you so long? We've been here for twenty minutes." I look behind Marlee to see our four other friends sitting on their chairs, sipping their respective Starbucks drinks. I roll my eyes. "Sorry Celeste. I had to walk it. My car broke down." Celeste stands up and hands me a vanilla bean frappucino. "Whatever, Mer. At least you're here now. Kriss and Natalie are giving me a headache." "Well, excuse me little miss diva!" Natalie leans back in her chair. "God forbid we talk about anything but shoes or boys!" I give a little laugh as I take a sip of my drink. "But you were talking about food! Who talks about food?" Celeste replies indigenously. Kriss shrugs. "We could have let Elise do all the talking and have the conversation be about books." Elise gives Kriss a pointed glare. "You say that like it's a bad thing." Kriss scoffs. "Well, it's certainly not a good thing!"

Marlee gives an exasperated laugh as she gathers up her things. "Come on girls. We have to go to our dress fitting. And then we have to go to the music store to choose what instrument America wants to play. We need to rent it." Celeste raises an eyebrow. "So America agreed to be your wedding singer?" I give her an incredulous look. "Of course I did! She-" I jab a finger in Marlee's direction, "called me up at 5:00 in the morning. I was tired." Marlee gives me a playful shove on my shoulder. "Shut up, would you?"

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Celeste, Kriss, Natalie, Elise, and I all stand in front of the large mirror, each of us admiring our reflections. We all wear strapless yellow dresses that hit right above our knees, the sleek material flowing out in an empire waist. It's not really the best color on me, and I find it looks ridiculous with my hair, but I smile anyway as the seamstress checks to make sure that all the dresses are a perfect fit. It seems that she is satisfied, because she nods in approval and heads into the room where Marlee is getting changed.

"Ugh, what is taking her so long!" Celeste complains, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "We've been standing here for HOURS!" I roll my eyes as I flatten out non-existent wrinkles in my dress. "We've only been here for a few minutes Celeste. Besides, a wedding dress takes a lot of time to put on. There's buttons and laces and tulle and-"** "**Yeah, okay! I get it! Shut up!" Celeste snaps, huffing as she goes to sit down on one of the benches. Kriss makes a tsking sound with her tongue. "Now, now Celeste. Let's not be grouchy. We can stop by the pharmacy later and get you pads and chocolate okay?"

Celeste glares at her before sticking out her tongue. We all laugh at our friend's antics, some of us leaning against chairs and walls for support. I'm wearing four-inch heels and they're killing my feet, not to mention that I'm also extremely unbalanced. So it's really no surprise that I topple over in the midst of my laughing fit, crashing to the ground with a groan. This was all it took for the girls to crack up again, hugging their sides for support. I glare at them before attempting to get back up, only to topple over again. "You know what? I'll just stay on the floor. It's more comfortable here anyway," I huff as I plop back down on the plush carpet. A small giggle catches my attention and I look in the direction of the changing rooms, only to have my jaw drop.

Marlee stands there, hands fidgeting nervously in front of her, dressed in a gorgeous wedding dress. A sweetheart neckline shows off a bit of her chest, with glittering lace decorating the bodice until a little bit above her waist where it flares out into a tulle ball gown, little lace decorations adorning it and glittering in the light. A diamond belt rests where the bodice ends and tulle begins, giving it a classy and finished look.

"Oh Marlee," I whisper, hoisting myself off the floor. "You look stunning!" She smiles and looks down. "You think so?" "Pfft, honey are you listening to yourself? I mean, you have looked at yourself in the mirror, right? You are drop-dead gorgeous! Carter is extremely lucky to have you!" Celeste boasts, coming to wrap an arm around her friend. "Oh, Mar. You're beautiful," Natalie squeals, clapping her hands together. "If this doesn't stun him I don't know what will!" Marlee laughs, wrapping us all in a group hug. "You all look gorgeous, too!" "Not too gorgeous I hope! We wouldn't want to make you look second prettiest at your wedding, now would we?" Kriss smirked. Turning to look at ourselves in the mirror, all six of us stare at our reflections. "No," Marlee smiles. "I suppose not."

{} {} {}

"Mom! I'm home!" I call as I enter the front door. Elise had given me a lift, and I wave at her as she pulls away and I close the door. "Hey sweetie! How was your day?" mom calls from the kitchen. "Good," I say as I walk into the living room, plopping down on the couch next to my dad. "How are you daddy?" "I'm fine kitten," my dad says, ruffling my hair. I playfully glare at him as I reach out to fix my bun.

"So, America," my mother purrs, stepping out from the kitchen. "Are you going to tell your dad the good news?" My dad looks at me expectantly and I sigh as I lie down. "I've agreed to be Marlee's wedding singer." My dad's whole face lights up as he smiles. "Really? You did?" "Yeah," I say, shrugging it off. "She's my best friend. And besides, its not like _he's _going to be there."

"'Atta girl!" Daddy says, ruffling my hair again. I groan as I stand up and make my way to the stairs, giving up on the bun and letting my red hair hang limply down my back. "You're impossible daddy!" My dad just laughs as he picks up a newspaper from the coffee table in front of him.

"I'll call you down when supper's ready!" my mom shouts before I close my bedroom door. Sticking my head out I yell back "Okay!" before heading into my room, my thoughts clouded with blond hair and brown eyes.

{} {} {}

That night, I have the nightmare again. Well, it isn't so much a nightmare than it is a bad memory, but it still feels like a nightmare to me. It's the day of the mayor's son's wedding, and I was hired as the wedding singer. He had heard of me through some of my richer acquaintances, and so I found myself seated at a grand piano in the biggest wedding reception of the decade. I was playing a simple song, singing softly as I let myself get lost in the music, fading into the background.

I had been avoiding singing any particularly challenging songs, not because I wasn't confident but because my stomach had been cramping for quite some time, and I didn't want to accidentally upset it more by belting out high notes. Things had been going pretty smoothly, but then _he_ had to open his big mouth.

"Excuse me, Miss America!" he had called after I finished my number. "It seems that you have been, say, slacking off the entire night. I called you here for my wedding because I heard that you can deliver many challenging and beautiful pieces. I want to hear one." He then gave me his trademark smirk, and I involuntarily felt myself blush as I nodded, playing the opening chords to "I Will Always Love You" by Whiteny Houston. Things were going fine at first, but right before the biggest high note my stomach gave a painful jerk and before I knew it, I became sick all over the stage.

And I remember everyone gasping, some screaming and some laughing. I heard shouts of "worthless", "uneducated", "rude", "bitch" and "unworthy." I don't remember much after that. The only thing I can clearly recall is getting picked up and brought outside by strong, muscular arms, and warm brown eyes staring deeply into mine.

{} {} {}

I'm woken up at 4:30 in the morning by Marlee's ringtone blaring from my dresser. Letting out a cry of frustration, I answer the call. "Marlee, what the fuck is wrong with you? It's 4:30 in the morning!" "I know America, I'm sorry. But I really need to tell you something!" Marlee exclaims from the other end of the lie, and I feel myself grow more awake after hearing the urgency in her voice. "What is it Mar?"

I can hear her take a deep breath before she says, "Well, the photographer that we had hired for the wedding, you know, Serugini? Yeah, well he quit on us today, we got the call a few hours ago, and so Carter went into town to look for another studio." "Okay…" I drawl. "I get it."

"Well," Marlee continues after making an exasperated sound. "He ran into someone, an old friend of sorts. His friend offered to be the photographer for a very low price. Carter and I both agreed, but we weren't thinking. We didn't realize… oh America I'm so sorry!" "Why?" I exclaimed. "What is it?"

Marlee takes a shaky breath before saying very softly, "Carter ran into the mayor's son, America. Maxon Schreave is going to be the photographer at our wedding."

**Yup, so that just happened. I'll try to post part two sometime this week, although you can't really hold me to any promises. Honestly, the amount of homework I have is astounding. **

**I'd REALLY like to get to 65 reviews…pretty please? It would mean so much to me! Give me any ideas or prompts that you want to have me write, and I'll see what I can do. Love you guys!**

**Until next time. **

**HorseGalFangirl9**


	7. The Wedding Singer: Part 2

**So… the last time I updated this was in March… I kinda forgot about it… Oh my God guys I'm so sorry! I'm a horrible person! To make it up to you I'm posting another holiday themed one on Christmas, I swear! Anyway, please don't kill me. Here's The Wedding Singer part 2. **

**Warning: foul and derogatory language**

If anyone notices my foul mood, they don't comment. My mom doesn't ask what's wrong when I stomp my way down the stairs and out the door in the morning. My friends don't pester me to find out why I go through the first dress rehearsal robotically and stone-faced. Marlee doesn't try to ask me why I'm not talking to her. Carter doesn't raise a finger when I refuse to come to the hall to practice my music, because he knows that _he _will be there. Everyone knows that _he_'ll be there. It's written all over the news and the internet: Maxon Schreave is to be the photographer at a lowly citizen's wedding.

When I was younger, my mom would always tell me that if I didn't have anything nice to say, not to say anything at all. I'm sure that every other mother told their kids exactly that, the only difference being that I didn't listen. Ever. So it's not really a surprise to anyone when I snap out of my stoic phase after a week and start trash talking the mayor's son every chance I get.

I rant about him to my mom, my dad, my siblings, my friends, and, this one really weird time, a random person on the street.

"You know America," Celeste told me one day as we waited in line for our Starbucks, "if you talk about Maxon so much, it probably means you like him."

"Like him?" I asked. "_Like him_? How can you say that? He's a jerk. He's an ass. He's a jerk with a pompous ass! In fact, his ass is so pompous that he shoves his head up there and there's EXTRA ROOM FOR HIS FUCKING DICK!"

We were kicked out of the Starbucks.

Needless to say, I become increasingly obsessed with the mayor's son. Well, not so much obsessed with him himself more so that I become obsessed with my hatred for him. He ruined my gig. He ruined my reputation. He ruined my life, and if anyone thinks that I can just forget about that, then they're batshit crazy.

No one understands what happened. They weren't there. They didn't feel the humiliation that I felt or see the smirk on his face as he carried my out of the hall or hear the jeering insults and laughter being thrown my way. And they certainly weren't there when he gave me a little "talking to" before dismissing me and going back inside, where he proceeded to insult me as if he hadn't just tried to make me feel better just moments before. He's so confusing, like a puzzle that I can't solve. And I hate him for it.

The only thing that had kept me going before was the knowledge that I'd never have to see him again. But now I do, and I can feel all those buried emotions from that night just a few months ago coming to the surface. I'm angry at him for treating me the way he did. I'm angry at myself for not being better, I'm angry at Marlee and Carter for not telling me tat he was gong to be at their wedding and I'm… scared. I'm scared that he's going to laugh at me again and that I'm going to be humiliated and be made fun. I don't want a repeat of his wedding. I don't want to feel the hurt I felt when he started to call me a bitch and untalented. I just don't want to feel myself be degraded anymore than I already have been. Is that too much to ask?

{}{}{}

It's the day before the wedding, and I have to attend the final rehearsal. _He_ will be there, of course, taking practice pictures and finding "the perfect angles" or something of equal idiocy. My only hope is to avoid him the entire day and then high-tail it out of there as fast as I can. I have absolutely no idea how I'm going to be able to avoid him tomorrow, but I'll just take it one step at a time.

As I sit at the kitchen table waiting for Celeste to come pick me up, my mother comes to sit next to me.

"Are you going to be okay, America?" she asks.

"Yeah mom, I'll be fine," I say dismissively as I try, and fail, to put my hair up into a sock bun.

"Are you sure," she keeps on pestering., "because you seem agitated."

"Of course I'm going to be agitated mom. It bothers me. But just because I'm less than pleased with him being there doesn't mean I'm not okay."

There's the sound of a car horn blaring outside, and I hurriedly get up from the table and run out the door, not wanting to deal with my mother any longer.

"What's wrong with you?" Celeste asks as I yank open the car door and, rather ungracefully, jump in.

"What do you mean?" I ask, buckling my seatbelt and whipping my flaming hair out of my face

"You were running. In heels. And last time I checked you can barely run up your stairs without dying. So are you on like, steroids or something?"

I glare at her from the corner of my eyes since I'm focused on the mirror in front of me. "I was trying to get away from my mom. She kept pestering me to see if I was okay."

"Are you?" She turns to face me as we stop at a red light.

I throw my hands up in exasperation. "Really? You too? I'm _fine _Celeste. Yes, him being there bothers me. And yes, I'd rather be in Hell than in a room with him but I'm okay. I'll deal with it."

"Okay," she says as the light turns green. "But if he does anything to you call me over and, mayor's son or not, I'll bash his head in. Or make his pompous ass bigger, if you know what I mean."

"See?" I laugh. "I'll be fine."

{}{}{}

"Oh America, thank God you're here!"

As soon as I step foot into the gardens where the wedding is taking place, I'm attacked by a mass of blond hair. "I thought you weren't gonna come at all and that I'd have to find another bridesmaid and another wedding singer but you're irreplaceable and I was just so worried I-"

"Calm down Marlee. I'm here. I'm sorry I worried you, but I had to take a bit of time to process everything. But I would have never bailed on you, you know that, right?"

"I do now," she says. "Come, I want to show you the venue."

She leads me to a giant field of flowers, a spectrum of colours ranging from red to purple to blue to pink. White chairs have been placed in rows at its center, in front of a giant archway covered in red roses. A paved walkway sprinkled with flower petals leads the way from a glass building down at the other end of the field to the arch, fountains and trees adorning its perimeter.

"Oh Marlee, it's beautiful!" I exclaim, throwing my arms around her.

"I know!" She claps her hands together. "I could hardly believe it when I saw it. Carter and I would have never been able to afford all of this; it was Maxon who paid for it all."

I raise my eyebrows. "Oh did he now? Well, I suppose that was nice of him."

"It was indeed. Quite generous on his part. But then again, he is an amazing person, would you not agree?" A voice sounds from behind Marlee and I, and I tense up as it's alluring undertone triggers a memory in my mind. I turn around slowly to find myself staring at chocolate brown eyes and blond hair.

Oh Hell no.

"Maxon!" Marlee exclaims. "You're early!"

"Yes I am, but I'd rather be early than late. Besides, I'd like to take a few shots before everyone arrives." He pats the camera hanging around is neck. "I want a variety of pictures for you to choose from."

"Oh, that's so sweet. Thank you." Marlee looks at me then, and panic crossed her face. "Um, Maxon, this is my friend-"

"America," I cut her off, reaching out to shake the mayor's son's hand. "America Singer."

"America Singer," he repeats as he returns my handshake. "I do feel as if we've met before. You seem awfully familiar."

"That depends. Do you usually remember the faces of the people whose lives you ruin?"

He looks shocked. "Excuse me?"

"Think back to your wedding, idiot!"

Maxon's face stays confused for a moment before realization sparks in his eyes and he goes pale. "Oh. _That_ America Singer."

"Yes, _t__hat_ America Singer," I mimic him. "And I'll have you know that I am also the wedding singer for this wedding. So if you try anything even remotely similar to the crap you pulled at your wedding, mayor's son or not I will kill you slowly and painfully. Understood?"

He just stares at me, frozen.

"Typical," I scoff as I whirl around and walk away.

{}{}{}

The rest of the day goes by without a hitch. We rehearse twice, have lunch, and then I go inside the hall to practice some of the songs that I'm going to play tomorrow, all without seeing Maxon again. He's been around, obviously, but thankfully we haven't crossed paths since this morning. When I leave at around three in the afternoon, I have a smile on my face. I stood up to Maxon Schreave, and he was too shocked to answer me back. I won. Well, unless he decides to sue me and have me arrested, then he'd win, but I'm not going to think about that!

"So, I heard that you really went off on Mr. Schreave this morning," Celeste says as she starts up the car.

"That I did," I say, the giant smile on my face.

"How did it feel?"

"Amazing!"

"Well then," Celeste cranks up the music and Beyoncé's "Run The World" fills up the car. "You have my utmost and eternal respect, Miss Singer."

I laugh, "Of course you do. Now, to prove it, please be the one to tell my mother what happened.

{}{}{}

Celeste must not respect me as much as she says she does, because she did not, in fact, come in to tell my mother what happened. Not that I was going to tell her anyway, but still.

"America?" my mom calls when I walk in.

"Yeah?"

"Oh good, you're home," she says, drying her hands on a dish towel. "How was it?"

"It was really good actually," I reach into the fridge to get a can of coke. "I didn't even see him once."

"That's good," she says turning back to the stove.

"What, you didn't think I'd be able to handle myself?" I question.

Before she has the chance to answer, my dad comes up from the den with May and Gerad.

"Ames!" May comes running into me at full force, Gerad right behind her.

"Hey guys," I smile as I hug them both. "How was your day?"

"It was amazing!" my brother exclaims. Dad taught us how to paint! I painted a lady bug and it looks really, really good!"

"That's great buddy!" I say. "And what about you, May?"

"I painted a girl playing piano. She kinda looks like you, actually."

"Well, I'd love to see them. How about you show me after supper, okay? I'm just going to go prepare what I need for tomorrow." Nodding frantically, they run back downstairs.

"Hi Daddy," I say, hugging him tightly.

"Hey Kitten," he hugs back. "Were you okay today?"

"I was fine," I assure him. "We never even talked."

"I'm happy for you Kitten. You're strong-willed and brave. Never loose that."

I laugh. "Dad, all I did was avoid one guy. That's not a test of my bravery." I pull away from his arms and start making my way upstairs. "Now I really need to go prepare my things. Something tells me that I'm going to be downstairs for a while after dinner."

{}{}{}

That night, I can't sleep. I toss and turn and when I am able to sleep, it only lasts a few minutes before I'm jolted awake by my sub-consciousness. Finally, at around 5:00, I give up on sleep completely and I hop in the shower to get an early start to the day. I take the time to dry my hair and moisturise my skin before finishing at 6:30, a half hour before I'm supposed to. I decide to just sit around on my phone, waiting for the limo that will take me to the hall to get ready with my friends. The doorbell rings at exactly 6:59, and I scribble a quick note to my parents before heading out the door.

After 45 minutes of driving I finally arrive in front of the glass building, and the chauffeur helps me carry my dress upstairs to the dressing room. I'm the second to last one there, Elise having been held up, and I'm quickly whisked into a chair by three girls who start on my hair and face and nails.

"I'm so excited!" Natalie exclaims as she's starting to get made over. "This is so exciting!"

"Geez, get any more excited and they'll be freaking unicorns coming out of your ass," Celeste remarks as her nails get painted.

"Don't be such a downer, Celeste," Elise says, walking through the doorway. "Today _is_ very exciting, and just because you're devoid of emotion doesn't mean that we have to be."

"Shut up," comes the brunette's remark, and we all giggle and fall into a comfortable silence.

After about three hours all of our hair and make up is done, and we're all being fit into our yellow dresses. Marlee went into another room to get changed, and we all wait in anticipation to see the big reveal. After what seems like forever, the door to her room opens and Marlee comes out in her lace dress.

"Oh my God you look amazing!" Kriss shrieks as she runs to go hug the bride. We all take our turns to hug her and tell her how pretty she is, and soon we're all close to tears.

"Ladies," a voice says, and we turn around to see Maxon standing in the doorway with his camera. "Forgive the intrusion, but I need to take a few pictures before the ceremony." He smiles warmly at us. "You all look lovely." The girls all mumble their "thank you's" as they giggle and proceed to the main room where the pictures will be taken.

Maxon fiddles with the curtains for a while and then places us in various positions, snapping a few pictures for each.

"Smile, America dear," he says at one point. I narrow my eyes.

"I am not your dear." Everybody laughs.

After about a half hour the pictures are done and Maxon leaves, leaving a gaggle of giggling, blushing girls. Save for me, of course. I just glare at his retreating back.

"Lighten up, America," Kriss nudges me. "We're heading down; the ceremony is about to start. We need you to smile."

I do, and we all make our way down the staircase to the doors, ready to do this once and for all.

{}{}{}

The ceremony was beautiful; and everybody was crying. Maxon, of course, was snapping pictures the entire time. I think he got one of me during a particularly violent sob. I need to go see him about that at the reception, I decide. As the ceremony finishes, we all make our way to the hall, wiping the mascara tracks from our cheeks and laughing about the overall cuteness.

Some techno music is already playing as we walk in, and we all take our seats as we wait for the bride and groom to make their grand entrance. About a minute before they do, I'm tapped on the back and told to go sit on the stage to prepare myself for the first song. I do, and before long Marlee and Carter are on the dance floor and I'm singing an acoustic version of a classic song. It's beautiful and amazing and completely and utterly ruined when Maxon comes up to me right after.

"You were great," he said, fiddling with his camera strap.

"Thanks. Not that you would know anything about me talent, would you?" I snap.

"Look, America-" he starts.

"No. I don't want to hear it."

"Please. Just hear me out."

"I have to perform again in a few minutes."

"It won't take long, I promise. I'm _begging _you. Let me tell you my side of the story."

I look at him with disgust, but I still hop down from my stool and follow him out the doors. "You have five minutes," I say when we're safely outside.

"I didn't want to say the things I said" he starts. I roll my eyes. "No, really America! I didn't want to. I _had_ to."

"You _had _to," I say condescendingly. "That makes so much more sense. Thanks for clearing that up."

"Goddamnit America LISTEN TO ME!" he roars. It effectively shuts me up.

"I _had_ to. I know it seems like I have a perfect family, but I don't. My father's a bully. He needs things done his way, and only his way, wherever and whenever he wants them to. He rules with an iron fist. With _fear_. And he wants me to follow in his footsteps. So he makes me act rude and ungrateful and superior all the time.

"I didn't want to make you sing a harder song that night. It was my father who wanted me to put you in your place. And I didn't want to say all those horrible things about you, but I had to make it seem like I was disgusted by you so that my father wouldn't think that I was going soft."

He looks at me pleadingly. "If I could take it back, I would. You didn't deserve that America. I'm sorry."

I just stand there, my mouth hanging open slightly. When I'm finally able to think coherent thoughts, I'm still only able to get out a few sentences.

"So, you're a horrible person because your father _makes_ you act like a horrible person?"

He nods.

"But-I-you-" I splutter. "What about your mother? Doesn't she have a say in any of it? What about Daphne, your wife? They can't just sit back and watch it happen?"

Maxon laughs a humorless laugh. "That's complicated. Daphne, well, she doesn't really care what goes on so long as she has her money and fame. I don't love her," he states, seeing my taken aback expression. "And she doesn't love me either."

"Oh," I say.

"And my mother… God. It's not that she's a bad mom. She's amazing and kind and thoughtful. It's just that when she married my father she had no where else to go, and she loved him but also feared him. She still does love him, but he's terrifying and he threatens to hurt me if she doesn't do as she's told. Same with me. So, really, we have no choice."

I have tears in my eyes as I say, "Oh God, I didn't know. I'm… so sorry."

He just nods in understanding. "I'm glad that got cleared up."

Suddenly a thought dawned on me. "Why are you telling me this? Aren't you afraid that I'll go tell the media or something?"

"Will you?" he asks.

"No, but-"

"There you go." He stalls for a minute. "I want to get to know you America. I want to start over and make what I did better."

"And how are you going to do that?" I ask.

"Well, my mother's holding a charity event at a hall across town next week. She really like your singing, and I'm sure she'd be more than happy to let you play if I say you offered."

"Will your father be there?"

"Not for long."

I think for a moment, and then a smile starts to slowly creep its way onto my face. "Okay."

"Okay?" he repeats, his face lighting up.

I laugh. "Okay."

"Well in that case, I really do think we should start over." He holds out his hand. "I don't believe we've met before. My name is Maxon Schreave. And, you are?"

"America Singer," I say as I mockingly curtsy. He holds out his arm to me.

"Shall we?"

"We shall."

We get back inside and I go back to the piano and start to play "What a Wonderful World." While I perform my eyes meet Maxon's, and then I'm blinded by a white flash. His camera. His pictures. Right, the pictures.

I need to talk to him about that.

**That wasn't my best writing, but I got all the feels while writing it! If you have any ideas about a Christmas prompt you want me to do, put it in the reviews or PM me and I'l try to make it work. I will keep my word this time, I promise. It'll be a Christmas miracle.**

**Oh, and I'd like to thank you all for 68 reviews and over 10.8k views. You guys are honestly amazing, and your comments make my day. **

**Until next time,**

**HorseGalFangirl9**


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